Hug Your Children

     How long can I stare at a computer screen and not know what to write? My heart is so very heavy as I work on this post right now. I'm sure this won't come out the way I want it to, but I feel like it needs to be said.
 
    Yesterday, Hannah had an appointment at Egleston - not her regular chemo appointment but some extra testing. It took about three hours and during this time she was back with the doctors and I was in the waiting room. There was another family there doing the same thing. They were a mom, dad and a six year old boy. I noticed that every time the little boy would come out for a bathroom break/go back for another round of tests, his parents would both hug him and say, "I love you!" We were in a different part of the hospital, seeing a different set of doctors than the normal team. I thought to myself, "Well! These parents obviously want the doctors to see that they are a close, loving family! Good gracious! Their kid is just two doors down - they will see him in a few minutes! Aren't they being a little excessive in their show of affection?!"
 
   How quickly I would regret those thoughts!

    From the few comments I heard from them, their son obviously had cancer. We were stuck in this small waiting room for three hours together. So, what do I do? Strike up a conversation with them. It started "normal" enough - "What type of cancer? Which doctors do you see? Where are you in treatment?" But the conversation quickly moved from these "light" questions and answers (yes, it is strange and messed up that those types of questions are "normal" and "light"). They then told me the heartbreaking story of their journey.
   
     Their son was diagnosed three years ago with an extremely rare and aggressive type of Leukemia. The doctors at Egleston have only seen one other patient with it. Ever! He was given a 0% chance of survival at the time of his diagnosis. He has had two bone marrow transplants (a.k.a. hell on earth) and such strong chemo that the doctors said an adult wouldn't have been able to survive it. (Kids bounce back much faster than adults do). The chemotherapy fried his adrenal gland which regulates almost everything. Without this gland, his heart rate isn't regulated properly. If he gets too excited or agitated, his parents have about a minute and a half to give him an injection before he has a heart attack. He also doesn't produce tears and has a high chance of going blind. His doctors expect his cancer to relapse, at which point there is nothing else they can do. His doctors told his parents to just enjoy every day they have with him.
   
     As I was crying about this on the way home, I very selfishly asked God why He would sit me down beside them and why I had to make conversation. I could have just kept my mouth shut and read my book. I am the type of person who doesn't like to watch the news because the tragic stories affect me too deeply. I don't like to carry around sad, hard things in my head and heart. I want to focus on Hannah almost being finished with treatment and hopefully us starting a new chapter in our lives without this evil cancer being a part of it.

     I can't get the look in their eyes out of my mind. I can't stop thinking about the sweet, precious face of their little boy.

     So, yes - they hug him every chance they get. They say, "I love you" often. And this is not excessive or a show. They are cherishing every moment with him, not taking one day for granted.

     This was a pastor and his wife. Their perspective was amazing and inspiring. They had accepted their lot and were trying to make the most of the time they had with their son. Even though it would have been much more comfortable to just read my book, I am thankful for the conversation I had with this couple. A part of me wishes I wasn't carrying around this burden in my heart today and now I've shared it with you. But there is a very important message to be learned here:

      Hug your children. Kiss your babies. (Or your loved ones - if you don't have children). Take an extra few minutes to tuck them in tonight. Don't be too busy to look them in the eyes and really listen to what they are saying. Thank God for today, for health and family. Cherish the moments. We are not guaranteed tomorrow.

     Please pray for this family.

    And please get involved. This has to stop! Everyone has someone affected by cancer. It is horrible and heartbreaking. Be involved with your local Light the Night or Relay for Life. Sign up for a Team in Training event. Donate to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. It makes a difference! They are coming up with new, life-saving research all the time.